


all I wanna do is you

by janie_tangerine



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I Blame Tumblr, I Don't Even Know, Loving Marriage, Mild Sexual Content, Post-Canon, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 02:46:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4205049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>where Jaime doesn't try to keep hidden how much he's enjoying being married to Brienne. In every which way <i>enjoying your marriage</i> implies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all I wanna do is you

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a prompt on tumblr - I was dicking around and asking for prompts based off Bon Jovi songs, an anon gave me _all I wanna do is you_ and this happened. I swear I didn't mean for it to be this cracky but what can you do, have some mindless fluff while I clean my hd of tumblr posts I never got around to put on Ao3.

It starts the moment Jaime opens his eyes and finds himself staring at Brienne still fast asleep on the other side of the bed. In theory, it would _not_  be something he’s not used to - it happened plenty of times in the last few years, though not all of them included a bed this comfortable.

But in  _this_  particular moment, he realizes a few things that couldn’t have occurred to him in any other of those times. Mainly, it’s not just a bed, it’s  _their_  bed, and officially so. The pink and blue cloak that’s been on his shoulders for the entirety of yesterday afternoon and which is currently thrown on the ground is an entirely welcomed reminder. And as he looks down at Brienne, who’s currently hiding her face against the pillow to hide from the morning sun, with most of the sheets piled on her head, he also realizes that he doesn’t have to get up and dress quickly before dashing out of the room and hoping no one is outside to see it happen. He doesn’t have to count the days until they do this again. And if someone walks in on them, at most they’ll be embarrassed and run off. He doesn’t have to worry about  _anything_ other than fulfilling his marital duties, which is hardly a hardship considering that it’s what they’ve been doing since the Riverlands.

Gods, that makes him feel positively  _happy_  at the prospect, because - well, when was he ever free to do any of that? Never, that’s when.

He smiles and gets back under the covers, shaking Brienne’s shoulder until she wakes up.

“ _What_ ,” she mutters after a few moments of insistent shaking.

“The morning is young, wench, and I don’t think we should waste it sleeping.”

She glances out of the window. “It’s barely  _sunrise_ ,” she says. “And considering how late - Jaime,  _what are you_  -”

“Never let it be said that I don’t take my oaths seriously,  _Brienne_ ,” he says as he moves over her first and slides downwards later, pressing a trail of kisses along her chest without stopping, and her protests die down the moment his mouth touches the soft flesh in between her legs.

He smiles when a moment later her fingers tentatively grasp at his hair before giving it a fairly steady pull.

 _Yes_ , he thinks,  _that’s more like it_.

–

“We should go,” she says, pulling on her smallclothes. “Everyone must be waiting for us to start breaking their fast.”

“Considering that  _you_  are in charge here,” Jaime says, walking up to her and pressing her against the wall, “I don’t see why you shouldn’t let them wait a bit.”

“I have  _duties_ ,” Brienne says weakly as his left hand touches her hip before moving inside her smallclothes - she was just wearing them and one of her usual shirts. Good, he doesn’t have to waste time unlacing breeches with just one hand.

“And you’re in  _charge_. What’s the advantage of being in charge if you can’t even be late to your wedding breakfast if you wish?”

She doesn’t protest when his fingers find her cunt again, and considering that she kisses him with  _quite_  the fervor a moment later, he doesn’t regret making them  _quite_  late. No one comments on her reddened face and he grins to himself throughout the entire dinner.

–

“It’s been not even half a day.” At least she doesn’t sound annoyed. Merely surprised. “And I should -”

“You don’t have to  _hear_  the commoners until after dinner. I made sure no one might drop by. And this armory’s  _empty_. Besides, what does it have to do with anything? I mean, I don’t get _tired_  from fucking, wench.”

He can see her smiling in spite of herself as she moves closer to him. “Fine, but just if we spar first.”

“Good thing I searched you out with time to spare.” He pretends to be annoyed as he says it, but he’s grinning himself as he finds a sword. Not that she’s not going to win, but that’s beside the point.

Later, while she pushes him up against the wall and her hand finds its way down his breeches, they’re both sweaty and probably not presentable, which means that they’ll have to take a bath before  _hearing the commoners_  in the afternoon.

Good. He can’t wait for that, too.

–

_“Edric, can you explain me why are the ladyship’s ravens still here and not in her solar?”_

_“I - I went, but - that’s not really -”_

_“Boy, can you be more useless? Fine, fine, I am bringing them over, but you’re coming with me and you will apologize for not having done your duty.”_

_Edric Flowers follows the maester with downcast eyes, hoping that when they finally reach the solar he will see why he hadn’t even bothered to knock._

_True enough, when they arrive outside the door, the situation is hardly changed. And there’s no doubt as to what Lady Tarth and her lord husband are currently up to._

_“… Right. You may bring these up later whenever you see fit,” the maester grunts before turning back on the door and rushing back the way they came from.  
_

_Edric follows him suit._

–

“Jaime, I don’t think you have quite realized what’s written over here.”

Jaime knows even too well - he looks down at the raven from Brienne’s father in his hands and then laughs all over again just by glancing at the first two lines.

“I think I have, wench,” he replies, not unkindly, before straddling her without giving her a warning.

“They’re asking  _him_  in bloody  _King’s Landing_  if it’s true that we - that we -”

“He doesn’t seem that perturbed by it. Frankly, he sounded amused at it. And why wouldn’t he? Who cares what they think in King’s Landing. This is no bloody hardship.”

“Well, that’s  _not_  what it is, but - not  _here_.”

“Fine. The bed is a lot more comfortable, and you’re not the one who’s aging.”

“Considering what you did last night, I doubt you find that much of a  _hardship_  either.” And there’s a certain glint in her eyes as she says it, one that he positively downright  _loves_ , and so he smirks and lets her stand up.

“Lead the way then, I might definitely be swayed into doing that  _again_.”

–

Brienne has no clue of  _why_  she even tells him - she hadn’t planned on doing that, but it’s been three months since they married, she drank  _plenty_  of good Dornish at the dinner they held to welcome her father back from his trip to King’s Landing, and they’re both lying spent in between sticky sheets, and it just leaves her mouth without even thinking.

“You know, my old septa…”

“The one who said that you should trust mirrors more than men?”

“How did you know  _that_?”

“Your father told me. The day before the wedding. I guess he wanted to be sure I wasn’t in it for your fair island. So, your septa?”

She swallows and just says it, figuring that now she has to finish it.

“Nothing important. She just - she always used to say that I’d have been lucky to find someone who’d warm the bed long enough for me to have children. Not in those terms, but - well. That was the message.”

“Nice. And, other than your septa being plenty damn wrong about that, too?”

“Nothing. But sometimes I wish she still was here. Especially these last few months.”

He grins in the candlelight like he’s very satisfied of that answer.

“Why, are you finally realizing that she totally would have deserved walking in on the two of us?”

“Maybe I am,” she blurts out, her hand reaching out to grasp his left and curl their fingers together. “Not that I think I’m not lucky anyway, but -”

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe that’s what I think every morning?”

He’s not quite looking at her, just at their hands, and he sounds moderately serious, or at least a lot more than he did before.

“So you’re fine with half of the realm knowing you take marital duties  _very_  seriously?”

He snorts, moving closer to her. “I can show you exactly how seriously I’m taking them. Again. Right now.”

“Or we could both do that.”

He looks positively delighted at that. “I don’t see why we’re wasting time  _talking_ ,” he says, and then kisses her without any finesse whatsoever, and Brienne grins into it and thinks that yes, he has a perfectly good point.

She’s also perfectly aware that people are  _talking_  lately - and she has heard people marveling at the fact that the two of them touch pretty often, that they kiss during public dinners or services, that they don’t care for protocol, though mostly from outsiders rather than her own people. After all, they were fine with  _her_  being the island’s new lady, they would hardly care about such trivial matters.

But the thing is, she marvels as they keep on kissing and Jaime pulls her on top of him as he laughs into her mouth, that maybe once upon a time she’d have cared. As it is right now, she can’t care less if people are still out and about downstairs and that if they’re not quiet they might hear them. Considering what they had to go through to get here, she thinks that she’ll just let herself enjoy it, and tomorrow morning she won’t absolutely stop him when he undoubtedly will spend breakfast being inappropriate. After all, she’s learning to enjoy it, herself.

End.


End file.
